Gundam Wing: Music, When Soft Voices Die
by Shadow Chaser
Summary: Written by Sephy. Neo's gone insane, Reyna is pregnant, and all hell has broken loose. Welcome to the darker side of the universe. [Alternate Universe, What If?]


**Music, When Soft Voices Die**

An alternate universe sequel to Shadow Chaser's 'Price of Peace' story.

By Sephy

Author's Notes:

What can I say about this story? Whoooo boy, what can't I say about this story? To begin with, this is an Alternate Universe storyline. It operates on this simple premise: What if Locke had defeated the next generation of Gundam pilots we met in '**Price of Peace**' and had conquered the universe as a result? What if she had forced the ragtag survivors to the rim of known space? With two questions, the universe so carefully and lovingly created by Shadow Chaser, was set on its head.

Who do you need to blame? Me. Why would I do this? 'Cause I'm evil, I like angst, and I enjoy it. What other reason do I need? Although I can't take total credit for this; after I convinced Shadow to let me write this monstrosity, she happily joined in wrecking her own universe and established characters. What can I say, I'm a corrupting influence. ^_^

So what do you need to know about this universe? Okay, first off. Locke won the war. There are no 'ifs ands or buts' about it. And some characters, original and created, are ... How can I put this? 'Dead' is a good word. Yeah, that about sums it up. Now, before the screaming really starts here, I want to state that I didn't just pick the characters I liked and let them live. *Sniffles* In fact, my favorite Gundam Wing character went the way of the dodo in this story and there are characters I don't like who are alive and well in this story. That's just the way life is. Besides, it adds to the angst. 

Also, a couple of characters who had no or tiny parts in 'Price of Peace' have been shoved into the spotlight for better or worse. A story like this not only gives the author the chance to explore different facets of old characters, but pull bit players into the foreground and see what happens. 

Oh and this story happens about three years after Locke's conquest of Earth and space.

Let me say that this story wouldn't have happened without Shadow's continued support. Indeed, without her rich imagination and talent, I would have had no basis for this story. So this is just to say: Thank you, Shadow, for creating such vivid, interesting characters. And thank you for letting me play with those characters (I haven't warped them too much...I hope. ^_^). 

This universe belongs to Shadow and myself; the created characters are the property of Shadow Chaser with the exception of Niniane (who belongs to me). Please do not use either without express permission.

Mobile Suit Gundam Wing, its characters, and concepts belong to Bandai, Sunrise, and their respective copyright holders. No infringement is intended.

If you've read this story, want to see more of it, please email either Shadow or myself and ask us to continue. We love feedback and I promise we won't bite. 

Now...On with the story!

Shadow Chaser's email: Shadow_Chaser41@hotmail.com

Sephy's email: persephone_elysian@yahoo.com

Sephy

01.24.00

**Music, When Soft Voices Die**

By: Sephy

L4 Colony

April 22,

1,095 days since Locke's ascension

****

'Music, when soft voices die,

Vibrates in the memory;

Odors, when sweet violets sicken,

Live within the sense they quicken;

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,

Are heaped for thy beloved's bed;

And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,

Love itself shall slumber on.'

--Percy Bysshe Shelley, To ___: Music, When Soft Voices Die.

****

Morning on L4 was a laborious affair. The artificial suns rose in dull, sluggish streaks across the artificial atmosphere, their generators barely functioning on the Colony's half-rations. There was no warmth from their tepid light, no brightening, no sun slipping from behind a cloud to touch the false earth. It was just day after day of silver-tinged skies and cool temperatures. That dreary half-light flickered with each hiccup of the strained power supply and at times, threatened to extinguish into night completely. Those were the worst times; those few seconds where everything stilled and you caught your breath, wondering if this was it. If this was when night fell for the last time. Then the auxiliary systems would kick in and the moment would pass, but the fear remained. It squatted in the corner of your mind like a toad, growing in silence until one day all you knew was fear. Until all you could think of was the long night ahead and wondering if the light would ever return. 

Reyna Maxwell-Yuy sighed, pressing her warm face against the chill window pane. She wished the colony had power enough for a rainstorm. It would do the crops in hydroponics good and it would be a welcome change from the monotony outside but no, there simply wasn't enough power for them to divert towards such a frivolous exercise. Before the blockade they wouldn't have thought twice about it. Now they had to ration out what power they could or else they'd risk losing the life support altogether. If that happened, then it was game over, Locke wins again. 

Her nails dug half-moons into her palms at the thought. ' No,' she breathed, trying to calm herself. She had already lost too much to that cybernetic bitch--her parents, her friends, perhaps even her husband. She wouldn't allow her to take anything else--not even if she had to get out there and waste every mobile suit between here and L3 herself. 

A strong push at her abdomen startled her out of her blood-tinged reveries with a wince. "Okay, okay," she sighed, stroking her swollen belly, feeling a tiny push as she did. "You win. Mommy won't get so excited. Now, will you stop kicking my liver black and blue?"

The baby had been moving more and more these last few days. A sure sign, according to the doctors, that she was getting closer to delivery. She felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought. She wasn't sure she was ready for this. 'Should have thought of that nine months ago,' she snorted. Nine months ago had been different. Nine months ago, they'd been holding their own... Nine months ago, Val had been by her side, calming her fears and promising he'd be with her the whole time.

'Some promises just can't be kept, sweetie,' she heard her father's voice from long ago. He'd been talking about Tarrant at the time, but the principle was the same. Only the circumstances were different. Tarrant was dead and Val... Val was gone. Lost these last three months. The others, they thought he was dead but Reyna couldn't bring herself to believe that. She'd know it. She would know if Val were dead. She'd feel it. He was her husband, as much a part of her as Tarrant. Vailo Yuy had never broken a promise to her and until she had a body, he was out there somewhere, trying to get home to her and the baby. 

Until then she would have to be strong, for him and herself. For their baby. She was too damn fat and weak to pilot a mobile suit, but she'd be damned if she was going to roll over and give up. Val was counting on her and she wouldn't let him down. 

'I just wish he'd hurry up and get his ass back here,' she thought wryly, her hand resting on her abdomen.'I'm gonna need someone to cuss out for putting me in this position when you make your entrance into this world, love.'

She still had no idea what she was going to name her child. She and Val had kicked around few names before he'd disappeared but hadn't come up with anything. So, she'd settled on 'love' until something better came along. It was simple, affectionate, and most of all, neutral. She'd feel really stupid calling her stomach some girly name and then finding out it was a son she was carrying and vice versa. 

"Reyna?"

She hefted her now substantial girth around, her back protesting the movement as it was wont to do these days. The bright side of the baby coming soon would be losing about fifty or so pounds and her continual back-ache.

Cobalt eyes studied her from underneath shaggy, flyaway bangs, taking in her discomfort before the man who possessed them, moved to help her sit down in a nearby chair. Reyna hissed in relief as she was lowered into the rocking chair. "Thank you, Papa."

Heero Yuy stared at his daughter-in-law reproachfully. "You know you're not supposed to move around too much, Reyna. The doctor was quite explicit when he said you were to get rest."

"I know, Papa," she let her head thump against the chair. "But it's so boring laying in bed all day. I just wanted to get up and move about. I'm not helpless, you know?."

"Hnn," he glared, with less flint than he might once have. Time had changed them all, and Heero Yuy had been no exception. There was more gray in his hair than there had been five years ago, more lines, too. But those changes were just superficial. The real damage had been done to his already fragile psyche.

Before Locke's final conquest of earth, Heero had taken Wing Zero and a ragtag group of mobile suits to try and halt her advance long enough for more refugees to escape. They couldn't win, couldn't hold out, but they would damn well do it for as long as possible. The defenders had fought bravely, but it had only been a matter of time. Locke had slowly picked the group apart leaving Heero for last, to humble him and the rest of humanity when she defeated him. 

Reyna's grip on his arm tightened. Her father would have been so proud of him, of how hard he had fought. Locke had fired upon Zero again and again and still he had come. She had half believed that he might just pull a miracle out and save them all...

...until one well placed shot had sent Zero spiraling off into space. 

It was Locke's arrogance that saved him. He had been written off as dead and there was no rush on her part to make certain of that. So he and Zero had floated in the darkness between L2 and Earth until someone had spotted a glimpse of Zero ghosting along an asteroid field. Against all odds, Val and Cavan had made their way through Locke's patrols, retrieving him and detonating what was left of Zero. The mobile suit had been too damaged to fly out of there and too damn big to leave. They couldn't allow the Gundam to fall in Locke's hands, not when she had Neo. 

Val had been so happy then, she recalled. He had borne Relena and Setsuna's death without flinching but Heero... Heero who could not die but seemed to have... Heero's death had shaken his son. Once again, Heero had beaten Shinigami and returned to the living.

Perhaps not beaten, she thought, a sharp pain making her throat contract as she thought of her own father. Perhaps Shinigami was his friend this time. 

"Itooshi hito?" 

Reyna forced herself to smile, not wishing to upset him. She wondered how she could ever have thought Heero Yuy emotionless. Those blue eyes were cool, precise as a laser but like the deep heart of a jewel, they glinted with light shades. It had taken time, but she had learned to read those shades, to appreciate their quiet, subtle depths of feeling. 

"Hai, Papa. I'm all right." It was a little game between them, the Japanese that was. In the early stages of her pregnancy, to distract her and pass the time, Heero had tried teaching her the language. She had always been envious of the ease with which Val had been able to switch back and forth with little effort. Her own attempts were somewhat laughable. She stumbled over the words, tongue getting twisted or her accent slurring and running right over syllables. Val had been amused to no end by her attempts while Heero had merely regarded her thoughtfully for a bit before pulling up a chair one evening and without warning, running over the basics of the language. He had been more patient with her mistakes than she would have given him credit. Those evenings had been a welcome change, a small sliver of normalcy, but it had meant something to her. And unless she had been very much mistaken, it had meant something to Heero, too.

He covered her hand with his own, leaning up to brush a kiss against her forehead. It still surprised her when he did things like this though she did her best not to show it. Though he could never replace her father, Heero had made her part of his family, had protected her and cared for her in the last few months as if she were his own flesh. And she had done the same for him. Without Val, there was just the two of them and there seemed to be some unspoken agreement between them that they would not let the other falter or fall. It made things easier knowing that there was someone else who knew what she was feeling, who understood and felt the same way. 

"How was the meeting?" she asked him, tucking a few strands of hair out of his line of sight. 

Heero grimaced. "Probably what you already know. We have a bigger population than we can support at our present capacity and more keep finding their way through the blockade. We're running low on food, water, and energy. Not to mention the war ship the size of a small moon at our back door."

Reyna nodded. None of this was news. "I still think we should concentrate our resources and blow that damned ship out of the sky," she flared.

"That would be fine if it were just us," Heero reminded her. "But it isn't just us. There's a massive civilian population to think of. Including my grandchild, might I add."

"Spoil all my fun," she mock-pouted at him, then flashed him an honest grin. Heero was going to be one hell of a grandfather; he was so fiercely protective already of her and her unborn child... She resisted the urge to smirk at the sudden image in her mind of Heero, packing a pistol in one hand and a diaper in the other. 

Heero's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Noth--nothing," she struggled not to giggle. 

"Then why do you look like you've been caught with your pants down, Rey?" A smug voice asked.

From the doorway, Cavan Merquise met her glare with a wink as he draped himself across the doorframe. He had grown in the last few years, now easily topping six feet and over. His white-blonde hair had lengthened as his bones had and now brushed the tips of his shoulders, not quite as long as his father's but given time that would change. His face was leaner, having lost the last curves of childhood; in short, he was a man now. A pain in the ass, but a man and not a boy. That fact was only enhanced by the confidence that surrounded him. Cavan had always had a healthy sense of ego and with his new responsibilities, that had bloomed, too. 

"You wish," Reyna snorted, flipping her wayward braid over her shoulder.

His blue eyes darkened and Reyna instantly regretted her words. It was no secret--at least to her, how Cavan felt about her. And if there had never been a Val... Well, maybe she might have returned those feelings. He had never forgiven Val for that either. They had worked together, protected each other, but it was only out of familial duty. It distressed her to have caused such a rift without knowing how to repair it. She couldn't be what Cavan needed. She just wished he could accept that. Of course, with Val missing, Cavan had taken it upon himself to look after her, despite her protestations to the contrary. He was just as stubborn as his cousin when he needed to be and in this case, he'd been insistent. It made things uncomfortable to say the least. 

"So," she drawled, searching for something, anything to break the tension in the air. "To what do we owe the honor of being graced with your presence?" 

"Thought I'd drop by, see if you were actually following the doctor's orders," he replied lazily. She really hated that smirk of his--it was as much a mask as her grin or Val's stoicism. Why couldn't they be honest with themselves and each other for once?

  
"Don't I always?" She sniffed.

"No." Heero and Cavan replied at the same time. They exchanged glances then glared at her.

"Oh, sure, pick on the pregnant lady," she growled, then got up. Or rather tried to get up. In her condition, it took a little time and doing. 'Does the term 'beached whale' mean anything to you?' Reyna thought wryly. 

Cavan was across the room and taking one arm before she could react while Heero claimed the other, both holding her in place. "Just where are you going?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Geez, will you two chill? I just want a cup of tea."

"I'll get it," Heero replied, heading off into the makeshift kitchen area.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting my own goddamn tea," she muttered, yanking her arm away from Cavan. He let her, but he didn't back down in the face of her glare.

"Reyna, we're trying to help. Cut us some slack, okay?" Cavan replied.

"Then stop treating me like a child. I can do things for myself. I don't need you or anyone else to look after me. I don't want anyone to look after me." 'Except maybe Val,' she amended silently. A little pampering from her husband would be welcome about now.

"Rey," Cavan sounded like he was talking to a petulant child. "You know as well as I do that we're short on staff and medical supplies. If you don't follow the doctor's orders and there are complications..."

"I know," she bit off. It wasn't something she wanted to think about, especially not now when her time was so close. Before Locke, there would have been no talk of complications--those things were so rare these days, they verged on unheard of. But like Cavan said, conditions on L4 weren't all that great and with the lack of decent facilities, let alone medicine and doctors... Well, the chances of birth complications were higher than anyone would have liked, especially in view of her age. Val had been worried to the point of asking her if she wanted abort the pregnancy. 'I couldn't though,' she thought. 'This is our baby, mine and Val's. If I gave he...she... up then Locke would win.' 

Besides the thought of her own death didn't worry her as much as the very real fear of SIDS. Her hand tightened across her belly protectively. No, that wasn't going to happen to her baby. She wouldn't let it.

"I know you think you can change things by sheer force of will," Cavan was saying. "But it's not true. You push yourself harder than anyone I know, Reyna. Too hard. For the sake of your child, please... Take it easy?"

"You fight dirty," she crossed her arms, pouting a little for the effect. 

"Is that a yes?" he teased, leaning over and kissing her cheek. She shivered in surprise at the sudden contact and even more when he didn't immediately pull back. His face stayed dangerously close to her own. If either moved, his chaste action would become considerably less so.

"Cavan," she whispered. "Stop. Please don't do this."

"Reyna." She closed her eyes, feeling tears of frustration well up at the longing and anguish in his soft voice.

"I can't, Cavan," she said. "I don't love you. I love Val. I won't betray him."

"Val is dead," he said bitterness lacing his voice.

His head rocked with a loud crack as she slapped him. "Don't you ever, ever say that to me again," she hissed. 

It was accompanied by a clicking sound Reyna immediately recognized as the cocking of a gun hammer. She froze up, seeing Cavan's face whiten, those blue eyes widening with panic. She took a deep breath and pivoting around in slow unthreatening movements. 

Heero was standing in the walkway to the kitchen, gun pointed with unerring precision at Cavan's head. His face was slack, expressionless beyond his normal stoic demeanor. Her heart sank as she took in the whitish glow clouding his normally crystal dark eyes. 'Not again,' she thought. 

"Papa," she made her voice sound as light as she could under the circumstances. "Is the tea done?"

He didn't even grace her with a glance. His attention was completely focused on the man behind her. Reyna took a cautious step forward, putting herself in front of Cavan, trusting--praying that Heero wouldn't shoot her in his current state. She felt Cavan start to shift, to put her out of danger by moving. "Don't move, you idiot," she hissed at him. 

He stilled, but she knew how much it was costing him. Cavan was an idiot, a rude insensitive idiot at that, but he wouldn't put her in danger if at all possible. In this case, what he didn't understand was that *she* wasn't the one in immediate danger here. She hoped.

"Papa," Reyna took another hesitant step forward. She had learned that when Heero suffered one of his episodes, it was best not to make sudden unexpected movements. Not if you wanted to survive, that was.

When Val and Cavan had rescued Heero, they'd found him unconscious, the wiring for the Zero System melted, nearly merged into his skin. They'd had to forcibly cut him free and put him in stasis until returning to L4. The best they could guess was that when Locke hit Wing Zero that final time, she'd caused the internal circuitry to explode and he'd been caught right in the middle. 

The doctors had been sure he'd never recover, that he'd be a vegetable for the rest of his life. But as always, Heero clung to life with a tenacity that verged on frightening. Val had told her his father would survive, that he'd wake up and rejoin the land of the living. And so he had...but he was not the same. The Zero System... It had done something to him, something to his mind. The blast had caused a surge, the doctors had hypothesized, causing the program to attempt imprinting itself on his brain, nearly wiping out his own personality. His repeated contact with Zero should have made it a simple matter; it was only Heero's stubbornness that had saved him. 

Most of the time, he was fine. He moved around, and behaved normally--well, as normally as Heero Yuy ever had. Every once in awhile however, he went into these episodes where Zero attempted to assert itself. These episodes while not terribly frequent were very, very dangerous because the program sought out enemies to eliminate. If he couldn't be talked down, then they restrained him until the fit passed--no easy task in itself. He'd nearly killed Zechs and Wufei once for attempting it. 

"Target acquired," he replied, his voice stiff and mechanical. "Move out of the way, Reyna-daughter."

"I can't do that, Papa," she said. She could hear Val calling her seven kinds of an idiot in her mind. It was a risk, what she was doing but she had to try. Even if she'd wanted him restrained, no one would get here in time. Besides it was better this way. Seeing Heero tied down and struggling hurt to no end. 

"He is an enemy," Zero droned on, his eyes flickering on her at last. "He would hurt you. I will not allow it."

Step by agonizing step, she moved closer, breath caught, heart racing in anxiety. The baby shifted uneasily inside her skin, perhaps picking up on her discomfort. "Papa, you've got it all wrong. Cavan wouldn't hurt me. Oh, he's a great idiot, but he wouldn't hurt me."

There was a strangled noise behind her but she ignored it, focusing totally on Heero and defusing this situation. "You wouldn't shoot your nephew, would you?"

Heero stared at her, his gun lowering not a whit. "I will eliminate anyone who tries to hurt you."

'Ouch. Okay, this wasn't working. Find a new tactic, Reyna, find it quick.' "Give me the gun, Papa. You don't want to do this. If you'd just think for a moment, you'll understand why."

"Besides," she continued desperately. "We need Cavan. He's -- he's important to the mission."

That got Zero's attention. "What mission?"

"The war against Locke. Don't you remember? Cavan's helping to lead the fight. If you kill him, think what a demoralizing effect it would have."

Heero studied her then shifted to Cavan then back to her. Evidently, some of what she was saying was penetrating. Now if she could just push a little more...

Gathering up what courage she could, she forced herself to take the final step, laying her hand atop the gun, not pulling on it, just resting there. "Papa, Cavan didn't hurt me but if you kill him, you *will* hurt me."

Tears welled up and leaked out of the corner of her eyes. God, she didn't need this right now. She was tired, fat, and overwrought. She wanted her husband or her father. The damnable thing was she couldn't have either. Now the man who was her second father was beyond her reach as well. 

"Please," she whispered, as hot tears leaked down her cheeks, making her feel even worse. "Papa, don't do this. Don't *you* leave me, too. I can't -- I can't..."

She lowered her head, trying to compose herself when she felt herself being pulled forward, a pair of strong arms encircling her. Heero touched her tear-stained face, the glow in his eyes lessening until she could see he was somewhere between the program and the man. 

"I'm sorry," he stumbled, voice slowly thawing back into a more human tone. "I meant only to protect you. That is my mission."

Reyna blinked as understanding dawned on her for the first time. The Zero System had somehow taken Heero's affection and strong protectiveness and made her the focus of some sort of mission. Heero hadn't gone off in random fit; he had thought Cavan was really threatening her and the System had taken over, intent on eliminating the danger, the danger to *her.* 'Oh, my God,' she breathed, numbed by the enormous simplicity of the situation. Somehow she made her arms work, raising them to his neck and holding him close. 

"I'm all right, Papa," she stroked his hair in reassurance, "I'm all right."

They stayed that way until Reyna heard a soft sigh, followed by the feeling of Heero slumping against her as Zero released him. She gripped him, nearly tottering backward in her efforts to hold onto the unconscious man. "Cavan, I can't hold him."

There was no shuffle of movement towards her, no sound uttered. Reyna managed to wriggle both herself and the limp form in her arms until she was face to face with the blond boy. Cavan was staring at her and Heero, showing no inclination to come to her rescue. "I need a little help here, Merquise," she snapped. 

Maybe it was the warning in her tone or maybe it was the sight of her struggling under Heero's weight that finally reached him. Whatever it was, it got him moving. Even if he was taking his sweet time about it, Reyna glared daggers at him, her back screaming under the double weight she was carrying. Cavan hesitated, then gingerly hefted Heero off of her. Reyna fell forward at the sudden weight change, catching herself before she slipped and did real damage. Resting her hand on her stomach, she sucked in several deep breaths. 

"Take him to his bedroom. He should be all right now. Or least he will be once he sleeps it off," she said at last. She ran a shaky hand over her face, the events of the last few minutes beginning to take their toll on her. 

"What about you?" Cavan's voice was brittle from his scare and subsequent anger.

"I'm tired," she breathed, without looking at him. "I'm going to take a nap."

"Reyna--"

"I'm tired, Cavan," she replied letting a touch of steel creep in her voice. "We'll talk later."

With that, she waddled away into the safe confines of her room, leaning heavily against the scarred door. Probably not the wisest move on her part. Not when one considered her weight and just how paper thin the building material was. 'Oh to hell with it,' she gave herself a small push, stumbling, nearly falling face first onto her mattress. 'God, it was so cold,' she thought burrowing under her coverlets until the top of her head was the only thing visible. She clenched and unclenched her fists, willing the shakes wracking her body to go away. She used to be so good at this but these days she just seemed to be falling apart. 'I'm a disgrace as a soldier,' she felt a tear trickle out of her eye. 'Val would be so ashamed. I mean, look at me, bawling like a baby for no reason.' The wedding band on her right hand felt so heavy suddenly, as if weighting her down with its disapproval. Reyna drew her hand up and her head out of the blankets to study the simple gold band. It wasn't much--they hadn't had the time or money to get anything fancy. Yet this smooth thin band meant the world to her. Val had given it to her, to *her* of all people, so the she figured she must have done something right. Or else Val had been in one too many firefights and lost what was left his common sense. 

It was all she had left of him now, this gold band snugged tightly against her knuckles. 'This and the baby,' she amended. 

Heaving herself up into a semi-upright position, she reached over and snagged the paperback off the night stand. She was tired but not sleepy and until she wore her mind out, she wouldn't be getting any rest. 'Besides,' she thought, patting her belly. 'I still have to name you. Can't have my own little Nanashi, now can I?' "Let's see," she muttered, flipping through the book. 

She read through several entries before coming across one that made her nose wrinkle and her forehead crease in incredulity. "Lalage?! Who in God's name would name their child 'Lalage'?"

***

"Dammit," Cavan swore as he stalked across the observation deck, occasionally slamming his fist against an unoffending piece of equipment. "Son of... Dammit, dammit, dammit."

His knuckles bruised and ached as he continued on, the pain a sharp reminder of what an idiot he was. 'What the hell was I thinking back there? That Reyna was going to just fall into your arms? You know better than that, you freaking moron. And to try something with Heero in the room? God, you really are stupid,' he berated himself. They all knew how protective Heero was of his daughter-in-law. Of course, he'd always been one to push the envelope--too far in this case. 'If Reyna hadn't been there, Heero would have killed me,' he acknowledged grimly. It was that damned Zero System. It had so little regard for human life, that it would remove anything it viewed as an obstacle, relation or no. 'That thing was abomination,' Cavan thought. It had destroyed thousands of lives and nearly driven his father insane. It *had* driven Uncle Heero insane or the next best thing to being totally crackers, despite what Reyna and Wufei thought to the contrary. Heero was a danger. If he were in charge, he'd never let Heero...

Well, that was the point, wasn't it? He wasn't in charge, his father was. And his father wasn't about to have Heero restrained and stripped of his authority. Because regardless of who he was now, Heero Yuy still garnered a lot of respect. From his father especially. 

Although Cavan realized he stood in very real danger of being called a hard ass or worse, he had everyone's best interests at heart. Heero was unpredictable these days. Suppose he went to pieces at a crucial time, what then? Or worse, what if he hurt Reyna in one of his fits? That thought haunted Cavan more times than he cared to admit despite her assurances to the contrary. If it came down to a choice between Reyna's safety and Heero Yuy's freedom... Well, he'd err on the side of Reyna Maxwell anytime.

Maxwell. Not Yuy, no never Yuy. No matter how hard he tried, he could not allow himself to add Yuy to her name. Didn't matter she'd been married to Val for some time now. He just couldn't force himself to concede the fact that he'd lost and she'd chosen Val over him. Not even with the evidence of that staring him so blatantly in the eye each time he caught sight of her swollen stomach. 

He dropped down against one of the monitors. Damn Val Yuy. Damn him for taking Reyna and damn him for leaving her stranded like this. He should never have gone off on that mission, not with Reyna depending on him. And now he was gone, most likely dead, leaving her with a child on the way and his half-insane father for company. Worst of all, Reyna refused to even entertain the notion that her husband might not return. Seeing her rise each morning and patiently wait, so sure that Val was going to walk right back through those doors made him gave him a sick hollow pain. He thought nothing had hurt so much as seeing Reyna marry Val but he'd been wrong. Seeing Reyna like this, hopeful then crushed a little with each passing day, was far worse. 

If she'd let him, he would take care of her. He loved her. She knew that. He could take care of her and her baby, see to it that they never wanted or lacked for anything. He would admit the thought of being a father at such a young age filled him with some trepidation but for Reyna, he'd risk that and more. If she would just understand that. 

Problem was she did understand it and it didn't matter to her. She knew what she wanted and it was not Cavan Merquise. His pride would not allow him to abandon a pregnant woman no matter how badly she'd hurt him emotionally, so there they were. And she wouldn't let go of her husband. 'We make quite a triangle,' he thought grimly. 'Me, Reyna, and Val's ghost, always between us.' 

Half the time he wished Val would come back. He could fight a flesh and blood man. What he couldn't fight was a memory and like it or not, Val was always with him, too. Taunting him, reminding him of his own inadequacies. Everyone here still talked about the 'great' Val Yuy and everything he had done for the war and them. Cavan snorted. What his fool of a cousin had done for everyone is get himself captured, most likely executed and deprived them of a useful pilot. Great, indeed. He and his father and Wufei had done more to try to keep this colony free and operational than Val Yuy had on his best days and they were catching most of the disgruntled sentiments from the refugees. Just one more little joke of the universe being played on Cavan Merquise. 

'I will exorcize your ghost one day, cousin,' he thought. 'And then I'll force Reyna to do the same. And then I'll take care of her, as you would have done, as you should have *done*.'

Providing they all survived.

***

_Reyna moaned in her sleep, twisting in the sheets as she slept, sailing through the darkened corridors between dreaming and remembrance. Soft touches seared her skin, causing ripples of sensation as her mind drudged up the memory of his touch, his taste. His scent, a rich male scent that always put her in mind of sandalwood incense, filled her nose as if she was actually pressed up against that golden skin. She turned towards that warm, seeking to hold it to her, feeling her belly ripple and contract with a warm rush. Mouth to mouth, breathing the same air as hands explored, answered with soft noises of pleasure. _

_'Reyna,' his breathless voice echoed in her mind, that half-helpless catch in his throat that never ceased to move her. The raw unguarded feeling in those blue eyes as he gave himself to her without reservation, hesitation, or barriers. These things were all hers. Precious memories made in darkened rooms during hellish hours when neither had been sure they'd survive. 'Aishiteru. Zutto aishiteru."_

_"Val," she half-sobbed, fighting off the stab of consciousness that sought to separate them once more. _

_Her body quivered with the memory of those physical joinings, causing fresh tears to spill down her face as another ripple tore through her body. Followed by another. Sharper, more painful than her memory supplied. She arched and cried out as her abdomen contracted followed by a rush of wetness between her legs..._

"Shit," Reyna swore, lurching upright and still shaking from the dream's aftershocks. No, not just the dream, she realized--she was wet. She hunched over as another sharp pain rocked her lower body. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. "Wh-"

Her mind blanked as she realized the baby was coming and not just in the near future but now. "Papa!" she screamed, another contraction knifing through her. "Papa!"

There was a thud from the next room and Heero fairly kicked the door down as he raced into the room, gun cocked and prepared the face any enemy he found in there. Under different circumstances she might have laughed but right now she was trying to concentrate on not screeching at the top of her lungs. The bed sagged as Heero sat down beside her, assessed the situation, and looked for confirmation. "It's time?"

She nodded, nostrils flaring as she gulped down breath. "If it isn't it soon will...will be."

"I'll call MedLab--"

She caught his hand before he could go. "No... No, I don't think I can wait long enough for them to send someone. Help me up."

"Reyna."

"Help me up, damn it," she yelled at him, feeling perspiration bead and trickle down her back. 

Heero nodded, pulling her to her feet and attaching an arm around her waist to keep her upright. She tried to steady her breathing then moved forward, pausing with each contraction as they made their way to MedLab.

***

Dorothy Catalonia glanced up from the book she was studying as the MedLab doors opened with Heero leading Reyna through them. 'Actually, leading was a kind term--pulling was more like it,' she thought as she watched him nearly carry the panting and grunting girl into the room. She rose to her feet, rushing over to put Reyna's arm over her shoulder as they led her to the nearest bed. It wasn't the easiest task in the world; Reyna was a tall girl and with her added girth, she very nearly toppled them both. Why the hell hadn't Heero notified MedLab that they were coming in? Dorothy thought in irritation as they eased Reyna down.

As if hearing her thoughts, Heero turned to her, nodding towards Reyna. "I wanted to call you but she was...insistent."

"And you didn't want to let her go wandering off in her condition," Dorothy finished for him. "Understandable. All right, Ms. Reyna, let's have a look at you."

Heero looked uneasily from Reyna to the blond woman, starting to back up. "I should probably--"

"No," Reyna yelped, nearly falling off the bed as she reached for him. Dorothy caught her, adding her glare to Reyna's imploring gaze. 'Stay put,' she thought at him. 'I don't have the strength to hold her down if she decides to go after you and in her condition she might do real damage.' Heero reluctantly stilled, still looking like restive colt about to spring his stall. 

"But--"

"Papa, please," Reyna shut her eyes, reaching for him. "If you leave, I'll die!"

Dorothy felt a chill at the prophetic ring to the girl's words. Reyna was a healthy girl, a strong girl but all it would take is for her to start hemorrhaging during the birth. They didn't have the means to treat something like that, nor the plasma supply. At best, she'd only be able to save the child through a Caesarian. 

"You're going to be fine," Heero told her, taking her hand and squeezing it. 

"Only if you stay," Reyna insisted, "Please, Papa."

He exchanged glances with Dorothy who shrugged trying to appear more nonchalant than she felt. She patted Reyna's shoulder, trying to ignore the very real anxiety starting to flutter up inside of her. This was the first time she'd presided over a birth. She'd attended them, trailing the doctors and midwives while trying to learn the craft of healing but this... If something happened, if she screwed up... 

"I'll stay," Heero was saying, stroking Reyna's hair before pulling up the nearby chair. Dorothy had to smile at that. She had seen Heero in many guises but helpless, worried Grandpa-to-be was something quite new. His blue eyes focused on her, "What do I need to do?"

"What you're doing is fine," Dorothy replied briskly. "I'm going to check her dilation and blood pressure. Then all we can do is wait. Think of it like baseball."

"Baseball?" Heero raised an eyebrow.

"Long stretches of boredom, followed by bursts of activity," she turned to a nearby table where the instruments she needed lay. She kept her eyes off the scalpel. 'I won't need it. I won't need it. Everything is going to be fine.'

This was so much different than waging a war. True, it was a fight of a different sort, but it was Reyna's and not hers. Neither she or Heero could do much more than observe and tried to help if possible, but they couldn't protect her from her own body. 

Dorothy closed her eyes then arranged her face into what she hoped was a friendly, confident smile. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

***

"What's taking so long?" Cavan raged, pacing up and down the hallway outside MedLab. Outside, the pale sun dulled as the day marched into late afternoon. Reyna's labor had begun some time late last night and now nearly fifteen hours later, there was still no word. The more time passed, the more worried he was. The more worried he became, the angrier he got...

"These things take time," Zechs said from his lean against the wall. "Babies don't come on command. You can't just snap your fingers and wish them there. If that were true, women would be a lot happier."

"I just wish I knew what was going on. You should have told me sooner," he glared at his father. 

"You needed your rest," Zechs reasoned. "You've been working near double shifts looking after Reyna and coordinating the Colony's defenses. You getting rest was more important to me than having you lose more sleep when there's nothing you can do anyway."

Cavan resisted the urge to tell his father to stuff it partly because he knew Zechs was right and because it wasn't worth the fight. He had his mother's temper--quick to anger and quick to blow over. Zechs could hold a grudge for years and he didn't want bad blood between him and the only parent he had left. Instead, he asked, "Were you so patient when it was Mom?"

"That was different," Zechs reasoned. "That was your mother."

'And this is Reyna,' Cavan added for him. He could almost hear Zech's not so subtle intimation 'and Reyna is not your wife.' He knew his father disapproved--not of Reyna, but of Cavan's infatuation for another man's wife. 

"Hnn," Cavan crossed his arms, staring at the floor.

"Taking lessons from your Uncle, Cavan?" Wufei asked smoothly as he entered the corridor with Dumas Winner trailing behind him, looking distinctly uncomfortable in his surroundings. 'It only stood to reason,' Cavan thought, since the last time he'd been here had been to see his family laid out, victims of Locke's hatred. Slain by one they had called sister and daughter, it was a something that no one should have had to endure, least of all a nine year old child. If it hadn't been for Iria, Dumas would have shared the same fate as the rest of the family. 

While he lacked the psychic abilities of his father and sister, Dumas did have an innate talent for bringing people to his side. He knew what people wanted to hear and he knew how to make them talk to each other. It was an invaluable skill, one that had saved their bacon several times already. And the boy absolutely refused to give up in the face of Locke's overwhelming advantage. Cavan admired him for that determination but it saddened him to realize the young boy was just as scarred as they were. 'He should be out playing with other kids,' he thought. 'Not signing treaties with smugglers and sitting in on defensive strategy meetings.' 

Dumas' green eyes sought him out and he stepped around Wufei to come stand beside him. "How are things?"

"Fine, considering we don't know anything." Cavan replied, his voice bitter and stinging. He immediately regretted it when he saw the small boy flinch. He touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired and worried."

Dumas nodded, his manner solemn. "Reyna will be all right." 

The boy sounded so certain that Cavan wanted to believe him. He wished he could but until he saw the evidence with his own eyes, he wasn't going to be satisfied. 

"What's taking so long?" he asked again, to no one in particular.

***

Dorothy watched as Heero walked Reyna around the room again. The contractions had slowed, almost to the point where Dorothy had thought it might be a false labor before returning with a vengeance. She had suggested Heero walk Reyna around the room in the hopes that would lower the baby enough for her to dilate fully. They'd been walking around for almost a quarter of an hour now, Heero treating her as gently as possible, his voice betraying more calm than she thought he was experiencing. And the things they talked about... She'd heard everything from military strategies to the suitability of Grimm's fairy tales being discussed. 'Honestly,' she shook her head. 'What was I thinking, expecting normal conversation from either a Yuy or Maxwell?'

Still, she was glad Heero was here. With Val gone, his presence seemed to reassure Reyna in some mystic way that she was going to make it through this. And while Dorothy wasn't all that big into mysticism, she did believe in the power of self-fulfilling prophecy. If Reyna thought having Heero here helped, then she wasn't going to shoo him out of the theatre to wait with the rest of the menfolk. 

Reyna stopped in the middle of the room suddenly, her face pinched and white as she said. "I--I think I'd better lie down again."

Dorothy leapt to her feet, helping Heero put the girl down and then checking her. The contractions were coming much, much faster now. She lifted the gown, laying her hands on Reyna's stomach, feeling the clear curve and shape of the child she was carrying through the girl's distended skin. 

"Papa!" she shrieked as another contraction racked her. 

"I'm here, Reyna. You can cry if you need to."

Dorothy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Men! What an inane thing to say at a time like this. 

"All right, Reyna. I need you to push," she instructed the girl, kneeling down between her raised, spread legs.

"I. Am. Pushing," she grunted, her face red and soaked with sweat. Another contraction and another shove from the panting woman. 'This has to end soon,' Dorothy thought. 'Reyna won't survive if this continues.'

The flesh under her hands spasmed then that wring of flesh widened and she felt something press against her fingers. Eyes widening, she snapped. "Again, Reyna. Again."

"Easy. For. You. To. Saaaaay. Oh God," Reyna whimpered.

Her stomach clenched then released and Dorothy felt something wet and solid pass into her waiting grasp. She stared at the tiny form, covered in blood and amniotic fluid before lifting her face up to Reyna's gray one and Heero's worried one with a gentle smile. "Congratulations, Reyna. She's beautiful."

"She--she--" Reyna started crying, great gulping sobs, turning her face towards Heero who held her, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. 

Dorothy lifted the child to a nearby table, checking her for her breathing, activity, color. 'She had surprisingly good lungs for someone so small,' Dorothy noted. 'That cry will be ringing in my head for weeks,' she thought but it was without rancor. She felt surprisingly happy and it wasn't even her baby. Wrapping the baby in a blanket, she turned back to Reyna who was clutching Heero's hand as the last of her spasms shook her.

"One more to go," Dorothy assured her as the girl released the afterbirth, the last physical link to her child in one smooth push. Once that was done, she retrieved the tiny bundle and placed her in Reyna's arms. Her arms shook and Dorothy resisted the urge to snatch the child back. This was Reyna's moment, she wouldn't spoil it for her.

Reyna ran reverent fingers over the crown of the squirming infant's head. "She's perfect."

The girl turned (as much as she could) to the man, looming at her shoulder, "Papa, I--"

She stopped. Dorothy turned her attention and decided that she had indeed seen everything this night. There were tears--actual, honest to God tears in Heero Yuy's blue eyes. Reyna's face, if anything, softened more and with one hand she pulled him closer. 

"Papa," she smiled at him, "Come and meet your granddaughter."

***

"So what are you going to name her?" Zechs asked, playing with newborn's hand. He grimaced. "That settles it. She's a Yuy. No one else has a grip like that."

Everyone in the room laughed, except for Cavan, Reyna noted. He had been subdued since Dorothy had allowed them into Reyna's room. More precisely, since he'd laid eyes on the squirming bundle in her arms. He seemed a bit baffled, almost uncertain of what to make of this physical development, despite the fact that he'd had the last nine months to prepare for it. He was hovering at Zech's shoulder, staring down at her and the child as if he expected the infant to sprout fangs and eat her face.

"Niniane Hikari," Reyna answered, doing her best to ignore Cavan's attitude. If he was in one of his moods, it was best to just let him work it out. Besides, nothing was going to spoil this moment for her. Although there was one thing that could make it complete, she thought wistfully.

"Suitable," Wufei nodded, arms crossed as he stood next to Heero, who glared at the Chinese man.

"Just suitable?" Heero scowled at him.

Wufei raised a eyebrow. "Would it help if I said it was the most wonderful, thrilling name ever spoken?"

"Yes."

"Don't mess with Grandpa Yuy here, Wufei," Dorothy smirked, punching Heero lightly on the shoulder. "Let him have his moment."

Heero shifted his glare to her for a second before softening. Much to the surprise of everyone in the room, he leaned forward and pecked her cheek. "Thank you for what you did today."

Surprise flitted across Dorothy's sharp features. "I think I must have fallen asleep in my books again. Or maybe I--"

"Just accept the thanks for what they're worth," Heero interrupted her dryly. 

"She's so tiny," Dumas leaned over the bed's railing, for a better look. "She's nice though."

Reyna laughed, touched by the anxiousness in his tone, as if the boy were afraid he'd given offense in some way. "Why thank you, kind sir. I'm glad you think so. I'd feel bad if you didn't like your niece."

"Niece?' Dumas' eyes widened until the white was nearly swallowed by the green there. 

"Well, Heero and I," she glanced over his head, pleading with Heero to go along with her on this. She hadn't run it by him beforehand but it was something she had been thinking about for a while now. "Heero and I were sort of hoping you'd like to be Niniane's honorary uncle. If you want to be, that is."

Dumas blinked back something that looked suspiciously like tears. "Yes, Ms. Reyna. I would. I'd like it a lot."

She ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Would you like to hold your niece?"

"I--I might drop her," he stammered, glancing from her to the baby with renewed alarm. The look on Heero's face told her that he feared the same.

"Dumas," she said firmly, causing him to still. "You won't drop her. I trust you. Now, hold out your arms. That's it...Now, cradle her head."

"You're pretty good at this for a new mom," Zechs teased as she instructed the nervous boy. "That maternal spirit just abounds in you, doesn't it?"

"Shut up," she said pleasantly. She was pleased to see Dumas' anxious face relaxed as he realized the baby wasn't going to break when he touched her. She had been much the same way at first. Now, it was all she could do to let anyone else touch her baby. Dumas needed this though. He needed to feel as if he belonged to something. That's what they all needed, even Wufei and Dorothy. They were all lost in this new world, struggling to hold on. She found herself viewing Cavan with a new sympathy. Maybe that was what he wanted more than her--the idea of belonging to something, of being a part of something. Like she'd had with Val and now had with Niniane. 

'Do you know that we have a daughter?' she willed her spirit to somehow reach Val. As always, it was silence that greeted her. A silence of distance, not of heart. Sometimes, she felt so close to him, felt him at the edge of her consciousness. Now with Niniane, she felt it more sharply but unlike before, it was no longer a sharp bite. No, more like the wistful ache of a child waiting for a loved one to come home. He would come home, she knew that as clearly as she knew her heartbeat because Val was the space and the silence between those beats.

"Reyna?" She roused herself and smiled at Cavan, covering the hand he had placed on her shoulder. 

"I'm fine. Just thinking," she reassured him. 

'Val, please come home soon. Aishiteru. Zutto.'

***

A low humming filled the inky scene. It was a toneless, tuneless dirge that had no beginning or end. It merely continued as he rocked back and forth in his corner, hugging his knees to his chest. Damp unkempt hair lay plastered to his forehead, matted with water and dried blood. His upper body, devoid of any sort of covering, was a battlefield of scars, cuts, and burns--some of which were more recent than others. He was careful not to let his injuries touch the wall behind him. He suffered enough without having to add to it. 

These days he lived in two states, one of pain and one of oblivion. One welcoming, one jarring. He couldn't remember much of anything beyond the walls and tortures his world had been reduced to. Not even his own name some days. 

Sometimes...Sometimes, he thought he remembered a pair of blue eyes. Laughing, fiery eyes that beckoned him. And hair, such soft, lengthy tresses that slid through his hands with ease. He felt things then, things that had nothing to do with the pain or fear though he couldn't rightly recall what it was. With each new 'session' he was forced to endure, he felt those eyes slipping further away from him. The sensation brought a curious ache of loss, as if some part of the man realized that if he lost the memory of those eyes then he was well and truly dead. 

The door to the room slid open, slivers of light beginning to widen as the portal did. He whimpered, shying away and trying to huddle into the smallest ball he could manage. He had been in darkness so long, his eyes burned with the slightest change of light. But in all the time he had been here, he had learned one thing. The light was bad. The light meant pain. The light meant...her.

"Hello, Val Yuy," Neo Winner, now Neo Deathwalker, purred as she loomed over the cowering man, the slap of a riding crop against her palm echoing across the tiny cell. "Playtime."

***end


End file.
